


Cross Purposes

by AngelQueen



Category: Enola Holmes Series - Nancy Springer, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Case Fic, Enola being awesome, F/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Original Character(s), Story: The Adventure of the Copper Beeches, Yuletide 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 00:45:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13019691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelQueen/pseuds/AngelQueen
Summary: Enola takes a case the spring following her reconciliation with her brothers. It leads her in a direction she did not expect.





	Cross Purposes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kariszma83](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kariszma83/gifts).



My brothers learned much from the year I spent in London, hiding and evading them in the city they knew so well. Before that, both of my brothers had been very dismissive of the abilities and rights of women; indeed, it had been such attitudes that had led to the rift between them and our mother. The fact that our mother was able to secret away hundreds of pounds, and that she and I both were able to evade their not-inconsiderable efforts to locate us, did much to awaken both Mycroft and Sherlock to the fact that their indifference and lack of knowledge of women left them at a distinct disadvantage.

After our reconciliation on my fifteenth birthday, I was quite pleased to see the efforts that both of my brothers made to not condescend to me, to take my thoughts and views seriously. Mycroft was true to his word and never broached the subject of my attending boarding school again, and indeed used his not-inconsiderable influence to prepare me for attendance at Oxford. In turn, Sherlock began to share his experiences as a detective with me, how to improve my disguises, how to research the backgrounds of people brought to me by my cases. 

So yes, my brothers learned much from being thoroughly bested by their much younger sister, and they adapted. However, to achieve a complete change in thought and behavior was perhaps too much to hope for.

* * *

Sharing a meal with Sherlock and Doctor Watson at 211B Baker Street was always an interesting experience, to say the very least. Once my brother came to understand that there actually was a female who enjoyed hearing about his experiments and knowing the grittier details of some of his cases, it was as though a floodgate opened. More than once, Doctor Watson would grow pale and try to silence his friend when he mentioned some of the nastier aspects of how a man had been murdered.

Still, I did not mind it. I was happy to listen to my brother talk about anything he wished. To have his attention was something I had craved for much of my life, and to finally have it caused a feeling that was almost addicting in its intensity.

Nonetheless, my love of hearing about my brother’s cases did not stop me from shaking my head about some of his views.

“… the girl decided to take the position, as the salary was just too much for her to let it pass her by,” Sherlock was saying. He shook his head. “That the man was willing to pay such an enormous sum all but guarantees that there are things going on that no lady should be involved in.” He gave me a stern look. “It’s no situation that I’d want to see any sister of mine accept.” The order was implicit in his words.

I raised an eyebrow as I swallowed the delicious chicken Mrs. Hudson had provided for the meal, considering his words. I could have taken offense at being _ordered_ to do or not do anything. I could have made some sort of plan to remind my brother that I do not take orders from anyone.

But I had been mellowed enough by the excellent meal that all I did was reply, “Unless you or Mycroft have hatched some sort of plan that will destroy the family fortune and leave us all penniless, I don’t think I will need to look into becoming a governess, my dear brother.”

* * *

I didn’t think anything more of the case involving the governess and her strange new employment. The very next day, a sea captain paid a visit to Doctor Ragostin’s office with a story about his fiancé being held captive. 

Captain Edward Fowler met Miss Alice Rucastle at the home of the captain’s sister, an estate near to Miss Rucastle’s family home, Copper Beeches, which was in Hampshire, near Winchester. After some months’ acquaintance, Captain Fowler proposed marriage, and was duly accepted, as Miss Rucastle was of age and did not require permission from her father.

“She still longed for her father’s approval, however,” Captain Fowler said, “and I obliged by seeking an interview with the man. Mr. Rucastle, however, is not like my Alice. Although he puts on an appearance of amiability, I quickly saw the meanness, the greed in his eyes. One doesn’t become a captain without learning to judge the characters of men.”

The captain’s expression spoke of his distaste for his prospective father-in-law.

“He did not attempt to forbid the match, knowing he had no right to do so, but he did seek to delay us. He tried to intimate that my prospects were not enough to support a wife. I informed him that I had more than sufficient funds from my years of service and from my own inheritance. What’s more, I have received a lucrative government appointment on the island of Mauritius. I am scheduled to depart in just a few weeks, and I wish to be married before I sail, so that she might travel with me.

“Mr. Rucastle saw that he couldn’t warn me off, and so he turned to persuade Alice. He began to push at her, saying that she could do much better than an old sea dog like me,” he paused to sniff at the insult, and indeed, I estimated that Captain Fowler could not be more than thirty-two at most. “But Alice held true, though I could see that the man’s behavior was wearing on her. Then, she stopped visiting. My sister could get no word of Alice through Mrs. Rucastle, or any of her other friends. It’s as though she has vanished. So you see, Mrs. Jacobson, I need Doctor Ragostin’s help to find Alice.”

* * *

In truth, it did not take long for me to develop a theory. Since I now had access to basic government information – yet another advantage to having the support of a brother who is often identified as actually _being_ the British government – I was able to confirm Captain Fowler’s identity and background. Furthermore, I was able to gain more information on the Rucastle family, and what was going on.

Copper Beeches was the home of the Rucastle family, currently headed by Mr. Jephro Rucastle. The man’s family consisted of his second wife, Mrs. Beatrice Rucastle, their six-year-old son, Ralph, and Mr. Rucastle’s daughter, Miss Alice Rucastle. The estate had been purchased by Mr. Rucastle’s grandfather, and passed down to the current owners. Miss Rucastle’s mother, the late Mrs. Amelia Rucastle, had been the daughter of a wealthy family in Winchester, an only child, and had left a sizable inheritance for her daughter, which was currently under her father’s management. 

I was even able to learn about the spending habits of the Rucastle family – really, Mycroft and his people are _very_ thorough in gathering information anyone and everyone who catches their interest – which were extensive, to say the least. It was not difficult to look at the details and realize just how heavily Mr. Rucastle was relying on his daughter’s money. Certainly the estate produced a healthy income – it was rather similar to Ferndell, which provided more than adequate allowances for both of my brothers and for me – but it did not cover the numerous shopping trips made by Mrs. Rucastle, nor did it provide for Mr. Rucastle’s deep interest in horse racing and dog breeding.

Really, it was not difficult to see why Mr. Rucastle did not want his daughter to marry. If she did, his hobby would quickly become beyond his means, and his wife would have to be content with the frocks that she had. Miss Rucastle’s money would go to her husband’s control, so that it might be used for the betterment of their family. Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle would likely not figure into those plans.

So the question was, just how far were the Rucastles willing to go to keep the money under their control?

* * *

The telegram came two days after Captain Fowler returned to his sister’s estate, where he intended to seek out news of his fiancé.

_Alice spotted at Copper Beeches. Still being refused meeting. Something going on. Requesting your immediate assistance. – E. Fowler_

The fact that I was able to travel from London truly marked how much had changed. I no longer had to fear being spotted by Mycroft’s agents or Sherlock’s Irregulars at Waterloo Station. I was free to do as I pleased, to follow my work just as Sherlock followed his cases.

Still, I was not completely inconsiderate. After packing a bag, I wrote two identical messages and sent them off to be delivered to my brothers’ respective residences.

_Off to Winchester. Case. Will send further word when I know more. – Enola_

Perhaps not the most informative of missives, but it would do for now. I also sent a telegram ahead to Captain Fowler, declaring my time of arrival. I did not mention Doctor Ragostin, but prepared an excuse of the doctor investigating different avenues of information. 

I was met in Winchester by the captain and a lady that was very similar in appearance to him, but was several years younger. He promptly introduced the lady as his sister, Mrs. Helena Masterson. We walked together to a nearby inn, The White Hare, and after procuring a private sitting room, Captain Fowler began to speak.

“I had taken to walking along the Southampton Road in front of Copper Beeches, hoping to catch some sight of Alice. She had not been seen nor heard from by any of her friends in the neighborhood for some time. Then, three days ago, I saw her sitting at the drawing room with Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle.”

I raised a surprised eyebrow. “You could see and know her from the road? Surely it is some distance from the house?”

“Some,” he admitted, “but I could easily recognize her from the dress she wore. It is a very distinctive shade of blue, one of her favorites.” He paused, and a conflicted expression coming across his face. “I heard her laugh… but it sounded strange. It wasn’t quite… right.” He shook his head. “I’m not sure how to explain it.”

I nodded slowly, considering our options. Mr. Rucastle was not likely to let Captain Fowler into the house, not if the captain had been forced to loiter in front of the estate. I glanced at Mrs. Masterson. She had some acquaintance with Mrs. Rucastle, which might be enough to get us into the drawing room, at the very least. I asked as much.

She nodded. “Mrs. Rucastle is not one to make very many calls, but she still accepts them from her neighbors.”

“Good,” I said, “we need to make a call on the house. I need to see what is happening inside.”

* * *

I did not pay the call as Mrs. Jacobson, of course. While that name was not widely known, one of the things I had learned from hiding from my brothers in London was the advantage of having multiple identities to hide behind. If Mrs. Jacobson became more well-known as Doctor Ragostin’s assistant, certain people like the villains whose plans he had foiled might seek to use Mrs. Jacobson against the doctor. I could not be sure if Mr. Rucastle – I was convinced that he was the true villain in this whole matter – was such a man, but I did not wish to take chances.

So instead, Mrs. Masterson visited Copper Beaches accompanied by her cousin, Miss Lily Fowler.

I had envisioned Mrs. Rucastle as a featherheaded woman who cared for nothing but the latest fashions, and who was greedy enough to steal her stepdaughter’s money in order to fund her lifestyle. Instead, I found myself faced with a quiet, colorless woman who seemed to have little to say, and what she did say was barely above a whisper. 

I took up the persona of a cheerful young lady who was absolutely delighted to have been able to travel from Trowbridge to her cousin’s country estate, and chattered about anything and everything I could think of.

“Oh, the countryside is absolutely marvelous here!”

“The beeches outside are lovely! Who decided to plant them in such a distinctive pattern?”

“Cousin Helena says you have a daughter, Miss Alice. Is she by chance here today?”

The last question caused Mrs. Rucastle to stiffen, and she answered with somewhat more strength than she had with my previous inanities. “Alice has gone to visit friends in Philadelphia. She will not be back for some time, I am afraid.”

I saw Mrs. Masterson grow pale, but I did not break character. Instead, I kept asking questions, though I didn’t learn much more that would be of use to us.

* * *

“Ridiculous,” Captain Fowler said flatly after we returned. “Alice didn’t visit her friends in London, since her father didn’t like her traveling. If he wouldn’t let her go that far, there is no possibility that she would travel across the Atlantic.”

I nodded in agreement. “Mrs. Rucastle is not particularly skilled at lying, at least, not when the need to lie comes without warning,” I said. “I had hoped to get a more extensive look around the house, but Mrs. Rucastle did not budge from the drawing room.”

“I did see a hint of someone up on the first floor,” Mrs. Masterson spoke up. I turned to her. “It was just a glimpse,” she elaborated, “a woman in a dark green dress.”

“Was it Alice?” The captain asked eagerly.

His sister shook her head. “I don’t think so. Surely, Alice would have called out to me if she was there, if she was being held against her will.”

“Possibly another servant,” I said. I thought back to the information that I had learned in my research of the family. The Rucastles were served by a married pair of servants, a Mr. and Mrs. Toller. Was it possible they recently acquired a third servant?

“We need to talk to one of the Tollers,” Captain Fowler said, as though he was reading my very mind. “They’ve been with the family for years, and they’ve known Alice since she was born. I think Mrs. Toller started as a lady’s maid to her mother.”

I looked at him. “It would be difficult to speak to the servants without the family becoming aware of it.”

He gave me a rather devilish grin. “You’ve handled all that we’ve done very well so far, Mrs. Jacobson. Are you up for something a little more daring?”

I stared back at him. I’d spent months dodging my brothers, climbing and jumping over rooftops when needed. I’d driven a cab in the midst of the bustling and dangerous streets of London. I’d hidden in my brother Sherlock’s own rooms when he’d been vigorously searching for me. I’d nearly had my own throat slit on multiple occasions. ‘Daring’ didn’t even begin to cover the things I’d done.

Still, I said nothing of any of that. Instead, I nodded. “Doctor Ragostin would be most disappointed if I grew fainthearted in the middle of assisting a client.”

* * *

That night, I was nearly eaten by an enormous dog.

Captain Fowler and I had barely covered a quarter of the distance between the road and the house when we were shocked by the sudden appearance of the massive animal, growling and barking and snarling at us. We raced back, franticly climbing back over the fence. The dog caught a piece of my dress, ripping it violently, but thankfully he did not sink his teeth into flesh.

The captain and I stood on the road, breathing heavily as the dog – a mastiff, I noted vaguely – threw himself at the bars of the fence, desperate to get at us. Taking a deep breath, I turned to my companion. “Was this what you had in mind when you spoke of something ‘daring’, Captain?” I demanded.

* * *

After the disaster of attempting to speak to the Tollers on their own ground, the captain and I waited until one of them was away from the estate. Fortunately, we did not have to wait for long. Two days after our mishap with the dog, Mrs. Toller left the estate for the nearby village to do her shopping.

At first I thought to find some unobtrusive way of approaching Mrs. Toller, but Captain Fowler had other plans. We watched as Mrs. Toller left the dry goods store, and before I could open my mouth to suggest how we might approach the woman, the captain was suddenly striding toward her, determination in every line of his body. I gaped for a moment, but there was nothing to do but follow.

I was certain Sherlock never had such problems with Doctor Watson.

Before anyone could take note of what was happening, Captain Fowler gripped Mrs. Toller’s elbow and guided her quite forcibly into narrow alley between the buildings. “Captain!” I hissed, hurrying after them. 

He ignored my outrage at seeing the woman so roughly handled, and instead focused on Mrs. Toller, who was gaping at him, wide-eyed with fear. 

“Mrs. Toller,” he said, not giving her a chance to speak, “I think you know why I’ve approached you in such a manner. Where is Miss Rucastle? What has been done with her?”

The housekeeper continued to stare at him, her dark eyes so very noticeable by the white that surrounded them. When she said nothing, he snapped in a voice that no doubt made harden sailors jump, “Speak!”

She did indeed jump, and stuttered, “M-Miss Ru-Rucastle has g-gone to Phil-Philadelphia –”

“Do not take me for a fool, Mrs. Toller,” the captain growled. “She has not left that blasted house. She is still there, under the thumb of that blackguard who calls himself her father. The only question that remains is where she is, exactly, in the house.” The glare he gave her was fierce, and I watched her quail.

“I-I can’t,” she whimpered, “Mr. Rucastle, he’ll –”

Clearly intimidation was not going to work. Mrs. Toller was not a wayward sailor. Doing my best to nudge the man out of the way, I spoke up, “Mrs. Toller, please. You have been with the Rucastle family for many years, correct?”

The housekeeper blinked when suddenly being faced with the same young lady who had visited the house but a few days before, only exhibiting none of the silly, chattering behavior that seemed to have been the center of her character. Slowly, wordlessly, she nodded.

“And you were once lady’s maid to the late Mrs. Rucastle?”

“Y-Yes,” she said, her shoulders, which had hunched in the face of Captain Fowler’s fierce mien, slowly relaxing. “I’d already been with Miss Melly for some years before her marriage. I came with her to her new establishment.”

“Were you fond of your mistress? Was she good to you?” I asked.

A spark of pride appeared in the older woman’s eyes, and she straightened. “Of course! Wasn’t no one better or kinder than Miss Melly… except…”

“Except Miss Alice,” I finished for her as she trailed off. Just as I’d hoped. Captain Fowler and Mrs. Masterson had both told me of how good and kind Miss Rucastle was. Given their description, I was hoping that such behavior extended to the servants she had grown up with. “What would Miss Melly say if she were to see her daughter kept prisoner? How would she feel, knowing that everyone valued Miss Alice’s inheritance over her own happiness and well-being?”

Mrs. Toller’s shoulders slumped again, and I saw her eyes gain a faint shine to them. “T’would break her heart,” she murmured. She stared at both Captain Fowler and I fearfully. “But Mr. Rucastle, you don’t know what he’s like! He won’t let her go, and he swears he’ll feed us to that demon animal if we try anything! I swear, I heard him threaten to do just that to the governess when he caught her poking about!”

I gaped at her, sickened. The man actually threatened to feed people to that dog? I turned to look at Captain Fowler and saw him watching the housekeeper with a grim expression. There was no disbelief in his eyes. 

“Mrs. Toller,” he said, “clearly this is not a safe place for you. Please, help me get Miss Rucastle away from this fiend. I asked for Miss Rucastle’s hand, and I have every intention of following through. If you wish, you – and your husband too – may accompany us to set up our new situation on Mauritius.”

“T-Truly?”

The captain nodded. “Of course. But we must free Alice first. There must be a way to get her out without Mr. Rucastle’s interference. Surely he is not home all the time?”

Mrs. Toller paused, considering, and then said, “He and Mrs. Rucastle will be going on a visit tomorrow afternoon. They won’t be back before nightfall. Miss Alice is kept up in the unused east wing. If Mr. Rucastle is gone, we might be able to free her then.”

“Good,” I said. I could see a plan coming together in the captain’s eyes, and I imagined it was quite similar to the one that I was slowly developing too. Still, one questioned remained. “What about the dog? Will Mr. Rucastle release it from wherever he has it penned up before he leaves?”

“Oh, no,” Mrs. Toller said, shaking her head. “Mr. Rucastle says the dog is his, but he really doesn’t have much to do with the animal. Only Toller can do anything with him, and he won’t let the dog out until nightfall. Later if Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle are late in returning.”

“Excellent,” Captain Fowler said. “So if the dog is penned, we won’t have to worry about an attack. What about your husband, Mrs. Toller? Will he seek to stop us from releasing Miss Alice?”

She bit her lip, looking unsure. “Toller has been with Mr. Rucastle for many years. He’s a good man, loves Miss Alice, but…”

We could not rely on Mr. Toller to stand aside, then. 

“Toller likes his drink, though,” the captain said. “It should not be much to distract him with that.”

Mrs. Toller admitted as much.

“All right, then,” I said, “Here is what we shall do…”

* * *

The following day, Captain Fowler and I waited not far off the road across from the estate, watching and waiting for the Rucastles to leave. We had arrived shortly after two o’clock, taking in the sight of the house from the vantage point that we had chosen. We saw little movement on the grounds at first, but shortly before three o’clock, a young woman hurried past us in a trap and up the drive. We caught a good look at her from our vantage point, and Captain Fowler started. 

“Good Lord,” he murmured. “She looks just like Alice!”

“The governess, perhaps?” I wondered. Mrs. Toller had mentioned her.

“What are the odds that the governess would be able to pass as Alice’s twin?” he demanded.

“Slim to none,” I said. “Unless she was deliberately sought out for her resemblance to Miss Rucastle. Perhaps to warn you off.” I glanced up at the house, toward the drawing room. “You said you saw Miss Rucastle through that window?”

“Yes,” he confirmed. Then his eyes widened. “It must have been the governess, wearing Alice’s dress, who waved me off.” He slapped his leg. “I _knew_ something wasn’t right! It wasn’t Alice at all!”

“Indeed,” I agreed. 

We stood together in silence for several minutes, continuing our watch, until the captain spoke up. “Mrs. Jacobson, I must admit to some confusion.”

I glanced at him. “Oh? On what subject?”

“You,” he answered, “and Doctor Ragostin. I have not laid eyes on the man once, not even when I engaged his services to help me find my Alice. You accepted the request on his behalf.”

I felt something inside me clench. “Doctor Ragostin is in London, pursuing other angles on this case –”

“Of course,” he interrupted, and I could hear the skepticism in his tone. “And he sent you here in his stead. He must have great faith in your abilities, as does your husband. Still, this is hardly the work of a lady.”

Annoyance replaced my nervousness and I gave him a sharp look. “I am fully capable of pursuing this matter, Captain. Miss Rucastle is not the first heiress I have seen imprisoned by her own family, nor will she be the first one I have rescued,” I informed him, a steel edge in my voice. “And as for my _husband_ ,” I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the irritating deception, “he has never objected to what I do as the doctor’s assistant, and he probably knows more about what I do than anyone.”

There was a brief moment of silence before Captain Fowler continued. “I’m not disparaging your efforts, Mrs. Jacobson. Far from it. You’ve taken on everything thrown at us on this case with no complaints. I only wish more could see just what a lady could do if she sets her mind to it.” He gave her a peculiar look as he added, “I’m sure _Doctor Ragostin_ is an excellent judge of character, to see what you bring to his practice. And to feel no need to send any inquiries by telegram or even by post to learn what is happening here.”

I looked at him searchingly. There was something in his words and tone… Did he suspect that there was no Doctor Ragostin, and that he was merely a front for my own work as a Scientific Perditorian? After several moments, I decided that I would not ask. Let it remain unsaid.

By five o’clock, a trap was brought to the front of the house, and soon enough, a couple stepped out of the house. Even from the distance, I recognized Mrs. Rucastle. “That must be Mr. Rucastle,” I murmured, taking in the fat, burly man who helped his wife up into the trap. 

“Yes, that’s him, the wretch,” Captain Fowler growled.

We kept back behind the trees and watched as Mr. Rucastle guided the trap out of the drive and onto the road. I took a deep breath. “Well, that part’s done,” I said. “Now we have only to wait for Mr. Toller to drink himself into a stupor.”

“Shouldn’t take much, I reckon.”

* * *

It did take much, actually. Mrs. Toller knew to signal us when it was safe for us to approach the house, which she did not do until nearly half-past-six. 

“ _Finally_ ,” Captain Fowler said, exasperated. We broke from our hiding place and hurried up the drive. We darted around toward the eastern side of the house and, just as we had instructed Mrs. Toller to do, there was a long light ladder resting against the house.

The captain did not hesitate in darting up the ladder, and I followed on his heels. Once up on the roof, I glanced around while the captain started moving toward the shuttered up window. My eyes landed on one particular space on the roof and I barked, “Wait, Captain! Look!”

I pointed and he turned to look. “A skylight!” he said, exultant. We both rushed to it, and the captain began pulling at the glass, eager to open it. The window gave with surprising ease, and he pushed it out of the way before calling into the room below, “Alice!”

A thin, frail voice wafted back up to us. “E-Edward? Is that you?”

“Yes, my love! I’m here! We’ve come to get you out!”

I could hear her muttering her relief, and I leaned forward to get a better look at the lady.

There was indeed a good resemblance between Miss Alice Rucastle and the governess we had seen some hours earlier, but I took note of how thin and pale the lady was and winced. I doubted she would have the strength to haul herself up onto the roof. I said as much to Captain Fowler and after he took stalk of his fiancé’s physical state, he agreed with me. “Perhaps a rope made from the sheets?” he suggested.

“No,” I shook my head. “There’s no telling if she’d have the strength to hold on if we pulled her up.” I looked back down in the room. In truth, the floor was not so very far away from us. I thought quickly. “If you go down there and boost Miss Rucastle up, I could pull her out the rest of the way. You should have no trouble getting yourself back out of there.”

It was a plan made in haste, but it worked. Within a few minutes, Miss Rucastle had joined me up on the roof. As Captain Fowler was pulling himself back up, I heard a commotion coming from the front of the house. The voices I heard were low and vague, but I could hear them nonetheless. As carefully as I could, I moved over the roof and peered cautiously over the edge, toward the front door of the house. 

I only had a bare second to glimpse him, but it was enough. I would recognize the jovial, mustached face of Doctor Watson anywhere. 

My thoughts raced. Mrs. Toller had no reason to call for a doctor, and she would hardly call for Doctor Watson, who should have been in London. Which meant that Doctor Watson was here for some other reason. And if he was here, then no doubt so was my brother. 

I had left a message for my brothers when I’d departed from London, but I had not kept my promise to wire them with more information. Surely, Sherlock was not pursuing me again, like I was some wayward child?

I glanced back at the couple, who were holding to one another in a tight embrace. Now was not the time to find out. “We have to go,” I called to them. “Now.”

Captain Fowler and Miss Rucastle both turned toward me. “What is it?” he asked. “Has Mr. Rucastle returned?”

Miss Rucastle let out a faint moan and tightened her grip on her fiancé. “I can’t go back down in there, Edward,” she said in distress. “Don’t let him, _please_ –”

I clenched my teeth at the signs of her despair. Just what had her father put her through? He would not be the first monster masquerading as a parent that I had encountered. I could remember what Lady Cecily Alistair had endured at the hands of her father and his family, and these conditions that Miss Rucastle seemed eerily similar.

I did not think that my brother would be so cruel as to turn Miss Rucastle back over to her father’s custody, should he learn what she had been put through. Still, I was not keen to put that to the test, not with the emotional state the lady was in. I hurried back over to the couple and began nudging them toward the ladder.

* * *

Once we were back on the ground, I thought I could hear a faint thudding sound, but I did not think much of it. Instead, I merely led Miss Rucastle and Captain Fowler back toward Southampton Road. We had no trap with which to fly back to the Masterson estate and thus would have to walk, but the roads were well maintained. The air was still cool, due to the spring, and Captain Fowler immediately relieved himself of his great coat and wrapped the shivering Miss Rucastle into it. However, we had not gone far from the estate when we heard the sound of a horse-drawn vehicle approaching.

“Quickly,” Captain Fowler snapped, “into the brush!” He pushed Miss Rucastle into my arms and I guided her out of the sight of the road, and none too soon. Just as we ducked behind the trees, the trap came into a halt before the captain.

“Fowler, is that you?”

Miss Rucastle’s sudden iron grip on my wrist told me all I needed to know. It was Mr. Rucastle.

“Good evening, Mr. Rucastle,” the captain said in a jovial tone, as though he had not just been busy breaking the man’s daughter out of the prison he had consigned her to. I peered carefully around the tree and caught a glimpse of the man. His expression said that he was not taken in by the captain’s innocent expression.

“What are you doing out here, Fowler?” Mr. Rucastle growled.

“Oh, just taking a stroll,” he replied. “No law against it. This is the Queen’s road, isn’t it? Nothing untoward going on here, no harm being done.”

The older man let out an inarticulate snarl, but then snapped the whip and drove on without another word. We saw him turn into the drive of the estate, and then Miss Rucastle and I stepped back out onto the road. 

“We should hurry,” I said. “He’ll likely go check Miss Rucastle’s room the moment he enters the house, and it won’t take him much to figure out who helped her escape.”

Neither Miss Rucastle nor Captain Fowler disagreed and we set off at a quick pace.

* * *

Much to my surprise, we were not pursued. Mr. Rucastle did not come tearing into the Masterson house, bellowing demands for the return of his daughter or challenging Captain Fowler to a duel or anything equally mad. Nor did the man send the constable around with claims of kidnapping the next day.

Neither Miss Rucastle nor Captain Fowler seemed inclined to question their good fortune, though I remained concerned. That is, until a trap came up the drive and Mrs. Toller popped out of it. We settled into Mrs. Masterson’s drawing room and she told us of what had happened after we left.

Needless to say, I was shocked to learn that the governess had not been blind to the abnormal circumstances surrounding Copper Beeches and indeed her own position. It had been revealed that even before she had accepted the offer of employment, she had sought Sherlock’s counsel on the matter, and had left with the assurance that she could contact him if matters became too amiss for the governess, a Miss Hunter, to stand. 

I thought back to the meal I had shared with my brother before meeting Captain Fowler. He had mentioned a governess and the usual situation she had been offered. Could it have been Miss Hunter he had been discussing? I confess I had paid more attention to Sherlock’s imperiousness and his forbidding me from ever taking up such a place, even in the name of my own work.  
It turned out that Miss Hunter had determined that something was indeed wrong at Copper Beeches and after she could withstand no more, she had contacted my brother. They had planned to search the house after Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle had left for their outing. Miss Hunter had plied Mr. Toller with drink – not knowing that Mrs. Toller had done the same on behalf of Captain Fowler and myself – and had then proceeded to lock Mrs. Toller herself in the cellar so that she might not attempt to interfere with their efforts.

Still, for all their careful planning, they had not been able to avoid Mr. Rucastle’s notice like Miss Rucastle and I had through our hiding in the brush off the side of the road. According to Mrs. Toller, Mr. Rucastle had flown into such a rage at discovering that Miss Rucastle had vanished and that there were strangers in the house, seeking his daughter, he had rushed back out of the house, intending to set the mastiff on them. This turned out to be a mistake, for just as Mrs. Toller had warned us, only Mr. Toller had any sway with the beast, and instead of obeying Mr. Rucastle’s demands that the animal attack my brother and his companions, it turned on him. The wounds Mr. Rucastle suffered were indeed severe – apparently the animal had savaged his neck, among other areas of his body, before being shot dead by Doctor Watson – and it was unlikely he would ever again walk under his own power. 

“That’s the other reason I’ve come here today, Miss Alice,” Mrs. Toller said. She opened her satchel and pulled out a set of rolled up documents. “It’s everything about what your dear mother left to you,” she explained as she handed the papers to Miss Rucastle. “Mr. Holmes assured me that everything appeared to be in order there, and that you would have no trouble taking control of it.”

Miss Rucastle stared at the papers in her hands for several moments. Then she murmured, “All of this, just for money. Oh, Father…” She shook her head and, after handing the papers to Captain Fowler, she turned her attention back to Mrs. Toller. “I understand my fiancé has offered you and your husband a place with us in our new establishment?”

The housekeeper nodded. “Indeed he has, most kind of him. I’m afraid, however, that we shall have to decline. Mr. Toller and I have no liking for the sea, nor do we wish to leave the lands we were born in. We’ve been offered a substantial raise in pay from Mrs. Rucastle, and we’ll be staying on to help her care for Mr. Rucastle.”

Miss Rucastle nodded, and did not attempt to dissuade the woman who had once served her own mother so faithfully. Perhaps, I reflected, it was for the best. Miss Rucastle apparently could only look upon her childhood home with loathing now. She had not even said anything about returning there to collect her things, preferring to exist on what Mrs. Masterson could loan her. Perhaps she thought it better to make a clean break and start fresh.

Which was what they did. Miss Rucastle and Captain Fowler left the Masterson estate a few hours later, bound for Southampton. I later heard that they married there by special license, and boarded a ship but two days later, bound for Mauritius and their new life. 

I wished them the best.

* * *

As for me, I returned home to London. Once I had settled into my rooms at the Professional Women’s Club, I sent a note around to my brothers, informing them of my return. Within hours, I received replies from both of them, and Mycroft’s included an invitation to take supper with them at the Diogenes Club – in a room where speaking was permitted, of course. 

In truth, I was actually looking forward to it. Now that I was certain that Sherlock had not been hunting me again, but had in fact been on a case, I was quite happy to give him the details. However, things did not turn out that way.

We were barely into the first course when Sherlock began to speak of the case. I will not bore the reader by reiterating what he said, as you no doubt already know the details of his case from the write up provided by Doctor Watson. 

“It was a singularly interesting case,” Sherlock informed me and Mycroft, “and Watson was very pleased to have helped to rescue Miss Hunter from a horrid situation. I believe he even introduced her to Mrs. Watson, who has many contacts among London’s governesses, so it is to be hoped that Miss Hunter will soon have a new and much more favorable situation. But I confess that I am quite sorry to have not gotten the chance to meet Miss Rucastle and Mr. Fowler. I trust their part in this adventure would have been quite interesting to hear. Though,” he added after taking a sip of his wine, “I imagine they were much relieved to have avoided the infernal animal that stalked the grounds of the estate. I sincerely doubt Miss Rucastle would have wanted to see her father in the state he was in after the animal was finished with him.”

I opened my mouth to say something on the matter, but then thought better of it. Miss Rucastle indeed had made no effort to seek out her father after the attack, but I knew it was not likely due to any feminine fragility on her part. Mr. Rucastle had imprisoned her, treated her little better than he’d treated the dog that had mauled him. Perhaps she would not have wished to see him again even if that had not occurred. Given the way she had clung so fiercely to Captain Fowler after we got her out of that cell she’d been consigned to, I did not doubt her unwillingness to ever step foot in that house ever again. 

So I said nothing. It would be some years before I ever confided in my brother that we had worked the same case, albeit from different angles. It was not the first time we had done so, nor would it be the last. 

Though, it would be some time before we were to truly work together. In the following months, Sherlock would become consumed with bringing down an infamous criminal mastermind, involving a series of cases that would inevitably lead him to a place called Reichenbach. What would follow would be some of the most difficult years of my life, in which I would believe my beloved brother lost to me…


End file.
